Tuesdays with Sammy
by KurlyQ722
Summary: They meet by accident, connect by fate, and plan a Tuesday tutoring session that proves to be far more involved than either one of them planned. Slighty AU fic, where Mercedes is still a cheerio and Sam is more urkel than we see on the show.


_Today's going to be a good day_, he told himself, nudging the rim of his wide, round frame glasses up the bridge of his nose for the millionth time that morning. Sam Evans wasn't a man with the greatest of luck or the flashiest of looks, but he made up for his physical shortcomings with an abundance of positive outlook. Sure, being in the chess team, anime club, and AV club hadn't put him on McKinley's list of most eligible attractive bachelors, but he knew he could be a great catch for someone if given the chance. But personal perception aside, he didn't think his dorkiness warranted the bullying he received on an almost daily basis. He couldn't even begin to count the amount of times he had to clear cold slushie from his ears in the school bathroom, and they always used the colors that were the hardest to clean. The blue ones were the worst because it took almost three washes for his mom to get the dye from his favorite white-collared monogrammed shirt, the one she had given him with his lovingly hand-knit beanie for his birthday. Luckily, twenty minutes of soaking in bleach and hot water seemed to do the trick.

Retrieving his packed brown bag lunch and all his books from his locker, Sam caught his pathetic reflection in his locker mirror and sighed in defeat. Who was he kidding? If he were a popular jock, he would bully him too. Looking down at his "Look-at-me-I'm -a-dork!" attire over his crowded hands, he cringed at the brown highwater dockers and holey blue Converse he wore, complete with pristine white knee socks stretched to the hilt of their length. People didn't know the outfits he wore weren't by choice, but rather a mish mash of hand-me-downs his parents could garner for him while they were in between jobs. God, he hated being broke! If he had the means, he would dress so much better.

Then again, his pocket protector, girly bangs, and penchant for clumsiness didn't help either. But what could he say? He was a huge Justin Beiber fan (although he would never confess that, since that would automatically _guaranteed _wedgies on the regular) and he liked to keep his things as organized as possible. As for the clumsiness, blame his tall, lanky gene of awkwardness. At least, that's what he had tricked his science mind to believe, although he knew clumsiness was in no way genetic.

He had finally gotten all of his books together—AV English, AV chemistry, Algebra IV, Little Genius's guide to Astrophysics, and countless others—-and balanced them ever so carefully under his lunch bag when they decided to come down the hallway.

The "_they"_ in this little high school moment were the cheerleaders, the social elite of McKinley High. They were as beautiful as they were mean, and no one dared to cross them, especially with an H.B.I.C. like Coach Sylvester backing them. Santana and Britney were co-captains, which naturally meant that they were the most beautiful and the most mean. Mercedes was a relatively new addition, recently approved to don the red and white pleats of pride at their home and away games. Sure, she wasn't the traditional weight and shape of a cheerleader, but her sass and confidence quickly won the co-captains over at her audition, much to the sizeist chagrin of the coach.

All three girls sauntered down the hall in their uniforms, ponytails swishing behind them as they laughed at Santana's most recent retelling of some ingenious mean prank. All three licked chocolate and vanilla soft serve from their cones, occasionally averting their eyes from the conversation between them to target some random boy bystander with a seductive lick of the cream and a suggestive wink. Mercedes watched silently and learned, trying to commit all of their sexy moves to memory. As self-assured as she was, She came nowhere close to being as sexually bold as these girls were, but she figured the sexy swag would come to her with time.

And with practice, she hoped. The fact that she was still a virgin and had not even been kissed, let alone intimately touched by a man, bothered her to no end. It was almost unheard of for a cheerleader to not have a string of man candy in their wake, but Mercedes hoped to resolve that soon. Sure, Mercedes was a traditionalist at heart—-she still believed in one true loves and waiting until she found the one—-but she _did _want to fit in and time was slowly closing in on her. Damn romanticism, the peer pressure was far more pressing and important right now. Besides, didn't most girls lose it in high school? The last thing she wanted was to be labeled as a dork. It was one of her greatest fears.

Since both parties were so caught up in their own thoughts, they didn't see the inevitable impact waiting to happen. Sam's view of the girls was blocked by his high stack of books and the girls were too involved in their gossip to notice him coming toward them. The resulting crash and scream was one that could go down in the history books.

"Aaah!"

"Shit!"

"Evans, what the hell?"

Their ice cream cones had been squished to their chests in a comedic self-coning, dribbles of the cold cream trailing down their red tops in a sea of brown and white. The cones themselves had long since left their hands and hit the floor with an audible plop, nary missing the scattered leaves and books that dropped from Sam's hands.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!" he exclaimed hastily, bending down quickly to rescue his fallen papers and the scattered remains of his tomato and cheese sandwich. _Well, so much for a good day_, he mused bitterly, scooping up the crumpled papers in his hands. If the embarrassment weren't enough, his ever-sliding glasses chose that moment to slip down the bridge of his nose and fall into a pool of melted ice cream. In his flailing effort to catch it, the few papers he had left in his hands were strewn all over the hallway, making an even bigger mess than the one he started with.

"Well, watch where you're going next time!" screamed Santana.

"Yeah, you should know where we're walking at all times." said Brittany, swooping a quick finger across her chest and licking the chocolate remains of her cone.

"I know, I'm sorry! I just—I was walking and thinking, and—I had so many books I just couldn't—" Sam's brain was so scattered, he could hardly finish a sentence. By now, all eyes in the hallway were focused on his blunder, and his face and neck turned beet red from the unnecessary attention. He had never felt like more of an oddball. He just wished he could crawl under a rock and die of embarrassment in private.

Mercedes had said nothing through all of this, quickly recovering from the shock and watching with interest as this scrawny, flailing boy tried to pull himself together. She felt an immediate sense of pity for him, seeing how distressed he was. And from the distraught look on his face, he seemed to be near tears from the humiliation of it all. Following her instinct and shucking all social propriety, she kneeled down in front of him and helped him gather all of his things.

"Here, let me help you. It's okay, accidents happen."

Sam could barely see her face without his glasses, but could recognize the spread of red and white pleats on her brown thighs anywhere. Was a cheerleader actually…_helping him_? He stopped short, watching the blurry haze of her arms move quickly around him.

She noticed the gold glint of his wire frame in the mess. Thinking little of it, she wiped it clean on her prim skirt and placed it gently on his face, clearing his vision.

Her smile came into focus, and he could barely breathe.

"There, is that better?" she asked kindly, sincere concern shining in her eyes. He gulped and nodded, afraid to ruin the moment with the monosyllabic expressions running through his mind

Santana quickly tugged on the fabric of the kneeling girl's shoulder, pulling her to her feet. "Girl, what are you _doing?_ Don't you know there are people watching?" she whispered, through gritted teeth. "I cannot be held responsible for the verbal destruction of your reputation when people see you giving favors to nerds!"

Mercedes blinked slowly and shrugged, as if public opinion didn't mean everything to her ten seconds ago. "I'll chance it. It won't take me long, just five minutes. Besides, I feel bad for the poor guy. It's not his fault he's a bit uncoordinated."

Sam gaped in shock, wondering what he did to deserve the red cloaked angel standing above him, coming to his defense. He didn't dare get his hopes up, though. Girls like her only felt two things for guys like him: intense pity or great disdain. He was just fortunate enough to receive the former from someone as beautiful as she was. Maybe he had a hero complex, or maybe it was the residual adrenaline pumping through his veins from all that transpired, but he swore he could feel his heart beat quicken when she spoke. Who was she, and what was so different about her?

"Okay, Mercedes. Don't say I didn't warn you girl," Santana looked down at the poor soul in disgust. "Come on, Brit brat, let's bounce. I'm afraid his level of uncool might be contagious."

Brittany looked to her, suddenly frightened, as they walked away from the scene. "Do they have a medicine for to treat that? I just got over a cold last week…."

Both Mercedes and Sam glanced at their retreating forms before returning their attentions to each other. Sam smiled his dorky half smile at her, noticing her ethereal glow under the fluorescent lights. She looked like an angel.

"Mercedes" he whispered reverently.

Her name seemed to float off his tongue, light and sweet like spun sugar. She felt her cheeks grow warm from the attention.

"That's my name, don't wear it out," she sassed, offering a small bashful smirk. The apples of her cheeks rose and plumped into faintly red circles.

_Did she just blush? _Sam couldn't believe his luck. This day just got better and better.

"And…you're Sam, right? Sam Evans?" she inquired.

_Shit, this goddess knew his name!_ He quickly pushed up his jaw and wiped away any possible drool that might be on his chin. "Yeah! I mean, um, yes…yes, that's my name. Sam Evans. Sam I am. And I do not like green eggs and ham." He mentally winced at his bad humor._Really, Samuel? Way to go!_ When he did something particularly stupid, he had a habit of mentally chastising himself by his first name. Yet_another_ dorky habit.

To his relief, she giggled at his poor humor. "Oh my gosh, you are such a dork!" Seeing his eyes widen, she caught her laugh and quickly corrected her error. "I didn't mean that in a bad way! I meant dork as in, you know, you're funny. I didn't mean to insult you, I swear!"

Her fumbling apology made him smile. Something about having someone as cool as her act so uncool around him made him feel instantly at ease. "S'okay. I know what you meant. I am a dork anyway, so no harm." he answered, mesmerized by her wide, expressive eyes.

His eyes were the loveliest shade of jade when he stared at her. She felt like she could stare at them forever. Why did he hide them behind those obnoxious lenses? They were sparkling and beautiful.

"I bet we're all dorks sometimes, when the situation allows it. Some of us are just better at hiding that part of ourselves." she answered. Part of that sounded like a confession, and Sam read it for what it was. Maybe that's why he liked her so much, he thought. Maybe he saw the dork in her, the one she tried to hide behind her uniform. Maybe he fell in love with the idea of her being approachable and maybe somehow…attainable?

They both stared at each other for a while, caught up in their own racing thoughts about the other. The sudden ring of the school bell shook them from their reverie.

"Here, let me help you get the rest of these papers and things before class. I don't think you're the type to be late."

He nodded hurriedly, matching her pace. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. But I don't think anyone would really notice."

She chuckled slightly in her throat. "No, I definitely think you would be missed. Who would be the one to answer all the board questions in Trig? Or nail every damn interpretation of Shakespeare in English?"

His eyes shot quickly to her face, taking in her features in sudden realization. "You're in my AP class? Wait….you're in all my AP classes, aren't you? That's where I've seen you before! Hey, you're pretty quick to answer questions,too. You're not as dumb as your uniform looks." He jested, hoping she took it well.

She laughed boldly. "Not bad for a cheerleader, huh?"

"Not bad for anyone, I'd say."

Both of their hands landed on the cover of the last book, his paperback volume of "100 greatest love poems ever", and their fingers slightly brushed against each other. Both gasped from the touch, feeling the instant electric pulse of attraction shoot through them like lightning. Wild green eyes shot to wild brown eyes as they jerked away, rubbing their fingers as if they burned.

Mercedes looked down awkwardly at the floor, wanting to focus on anything but the way his muscle bulged under his tight cotton sleeve. "Um….100 greatest love poems, huh?" she whispered.

"Yeah, it's mine" he chuckled, slightly embarrassed. "You never know when you might need the right words to charm the girl of your dreams."

Her eyes shot to his again, feeling the poignant significance of his words. Wait, why did she care? She wasn't supposed to be interested in guys like him. It was like some unspoken rule of adolescence or something.

But then again, what kind of guy was he anyway? From what she could tell, he was a sweet, gentle, albeit misguided soul with a lot of heart and a fumbling mouth that she found absolutely adorable. Not to mention a rather plump set of lips she wouldn't mind getting to know intimately. She licked her lips unconsciously from the thought, sending his eyes straight to her darting tongue. He quickly brushed his stray bang away from his lens, not wanting anything to obstruct the view of her sinfully pouty mouth. His attempt to reign in a groan was useless as it still managed to audibly leave his throat.

Her smile turned cocky, hearing his groan. So, he felt it too. The instant insane thing they had going on between them. The more she thought about it, the more it pleased her. On further inspection, Mercedes realized that he had the potential to be a prime sex candidate. He had all the credentials. Gorgeous eyes. swoon-worthy broad shoulders, and perfect lips. Tight packs of muscle hidden beneath his geeked out attire and long, skilled fingers that looked ever ready to strum, pluck, and tease. With the right training, he could be the tawdry plaything she was looking for. If his hands and feet were any indication, he may be well equipped in more ways than were visible to the naked eye. The thought of the fat treat of cock potentially hidden in his boxers made her shiver.

Yes, he was _just _what she was looking for.

"I'll tell you what" she purred, trying out her practiced seductive charm. "I need help studying for this week's English exam. I would be _oh so grateful_ if you could help me out. What, with you being the smartest kid in our class and all." She brushed his stray bangs away from his face and caressed his cheek, shooting him her most seductive of glances.

His jaw dropped instantly and his glasses tilted comically off-kilter on his nose. Did she just…was she flirting? WITH HIM? Saint Mary and Joseph, his body was not ready.

"You, um, y-you want me to tutor you?" he gulped, eyes still wide from the shock.

She chuckled prettily. "Isn't that what I just asked you? Yes, I need your tutoring, Sam. I need it _so badly,_" she said, shaking her small curled ponytail with a small pout. If Santana had taught her anything during the brief course of her cheerleading "career", it was how to play up your assets. And Mercedes had several choice assets she could choose to play up. In this case, she decided on the one in direct line of his vision. Mercedes' innocently folded hands resting on her lap formed a V of arms around her ample bosom. She leaned forward and gave her arms a small squeeze inward, pushing her breasts up slightly underneath her tight top. His focus shifted instantly and stayed there for a while, much to her pleasure.

"Will you help me, Sammy?" she asked, using her smallest baby voice. Her finger idly trailed the small cleft of cleavage printed in the fabric of her cheerleading top. "Will you teach me?"

He licked his lips unconsciously, thoughts long since gone to ripping her top open and sucking the hard, chocolate nipples that budded eagerly against her bra. He knew he shouldn't think these things, about a girl who was simply being nice to him and asking for his help, but nearly seventeen years of lonely nights horny in his bedroom had caused his mind to wander at any female attention he received. Hell, he may be a dork, but he was still male, and urges hit him just as hard as any other guy. Hell, maybe even more than that, since he was a closet freak by nature. The things he would do to this girl if he had the chance…

The lusty hunger in his eyes when he licked his lips shocked her. God, that was sexy! Where did he learn how to do that? Mercedes had to bite her lip to stifle a moan at his attentions. _Stay in control, girl. Keep it together._

His eyes slowly trailed up to meet hers, much darker than they were before. "Sure. It would be my pleasure," he replied in a sexy low timbre. He half smiled back at her, picking up the last of his books without leaving her gaze.

"Good, Very good" she uttered nervously. She cleared her throat to clear the awful crack in her voice. "So, is Tuesday good? In the library?"

"Tuesday's perfect." He smiled, realizing his chance to meet her again was only a day away.

"Good, I will see you then." She smiled back, standing to her feet. He stood with her, following her every move. "Gotta get to class. Bye now!" she grinned, offering a light wave as she sauntered down the hall. She paused for good measure, stopping in her tracks.

"Oh, by the way, Sammy?" she already loved calling him by her new nickname. She felt in control.

"Yes, Ms. Mercedes?" he replied, feeling the need for formalities with one so out of his league.

She shot a sly glance over her shoulder, looking at the floor, near his feet. "You might want to clean up the front of your pants. You've got cream everywhere."

He looked down quickly, anxiously, at his dockers. Sure enough, a large dark stain of ice cream stained his knees and crotch. He looked back at her stare and realized, in another bout of shock, that the double entendre was intentional. He could tell by the dancing amusement in her eyes.

"Catch you later, Sammy." With a slow turn, she left the scrawny nerd boy in her wake, gaping lustfully at the pleated swish of her backside. Feeling his eyes, she added an extra swing to her step, giving him the added treat of a jiggle and bounce as he followed her retreating form.

Tuesday had arrived more quickly than Sam had anticipated. With one more glance at his pocket mirror, he did a quick perusal of his face to make sure he was Mercedes-ready.

Eyes? No embarrassing crusties.

Glasses? Perched in their proper place and symmetrical.

Nose? Free of boogies and clear of hair.

Lips? Chapsticked three times for proper moisture level.

Everything seemed to check out fine. He huffed and breathed in his cupped palm. Scrunching his face in disgust, he rapidly spritzed another fifteen sprays of peppermint in his mouth to keep his breath at bay. This tutoring session had to be perfect for Mercedes. He couldn't ruin it by being his normal dorky self. Something about this girl made him want to shape up, be his very best, and it wasn't just because she was pretty. It was something about the way she looked at him, like he could see into her soul and she could see into his. And he liked what he saw in her. She _definitely _wasn't mean and cold-hearted like the other cheerleaders. She was special. The least he could do was try to be equally as special for her…..

Quickly sticking his hands under his armpits, he swiped them out and gave them a quick sniff._ Hmm, not too sweaty, but we want to be sure. _Whipping out his can of Axe spray deodorant, Sam coated his clothed armpits liberally with the stuff, overpowering the small area in the library with the crisp manly scent. Mercedes had walked in, books in hand, to catch him mid spray. His back was still turned to her, so he hadn't stopped his ritual. She should be embarrassed for him—hell, embarrassed for herself for possibly being seen with him—but his nervousness was endearingly cute to her. She bit back a laugh when he craned his neck to sniff himself for the second time, shook his head, and continued to spray nearly the whole can of deodorant on himself. He had an interesting charm about him, that's for sure.

Besides, she had picked the private study room for a reason. Sure, reputations were at stake and all, but Mercedes really wanted them to feel comfortable and in their element for their session. If she planned on seducing him, she didn't need the judging stares of her friends threatening to ruin her plans. She was gonna lose her virginity if it was the last thing she did. She was tired of it looming over her head, and Sam seemed like a safe, sure answer to her problems.

"You know, if you spray anymore, you're gonna blast another hole in the ozone layer" she called out.

He paused, mid spray to the armpit, and turned to her voice. He was comically frozen in time in his silly position, too heated with embarrassment to move. He chuckled bashfully, growing redder when he nervously snorted.

"Not possible, pretty lady," he said in a crackly voice. "The chemicals that cause ozone destruction have long since been eradicated from traditional sprays and household aerosols…" Her brow arched, knowing and amused, in his direction to stop him in his tracks. Realizing he let the nerd escape, Sam stopped talking and lowered his arms, tossing the empty can on the study couch and sticking his hands in his jeans pockets.

"I mean, hi, how are you? Let's just start over." He insisted, shooing away the previous moment with his hands. "Are you ready to get your English study on?"

This time, Mercedes couldn't hold her chuckle. She held up the books in her hands for his approval. "I don't know, do I look ready enough?" she asked, voice light with mirth.

He walked toward her with a studied expression, mock analyzing each book as he stood in front of her. "Hmm, let's see…I think you have all the essentials. You look fully prepared for anything with the amount of books you have! Damn, are we taking the same English class?" he laughed.

She laughed heartily, feeding off the ease of the moment. "I just wanted to be fully prepared! I didn't know what to expect from a genius like you! You might leave me in the dust with all of your knowledge." admitted Mercedes.

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed, green eyes sparkling with glee. "I'm sure there's genius in you yet"

He caught the shocked raise of her brow and looked down at her, a bit puzzled.

"Genius in me? Maybe." She brought herself closer to him, pressing her book-laden arms against his chest and leaning in her head to whisper by his lips. "I'm sure by the end of this session, I'll have genius practically thrust inside me."

She expected another heated blush, but the pale boy just offered a small, unreadable smile. "Maybe, Ms. Jones. Let's have a seat and get started so we can find out" He made his way to the table and couch, firmly patting the empty space of seat next to him. With a toss of her glossy curls and a closed lipped giggle, she bounced toward him and eagerly took her seat.

The conversation during their session had been surprisingly easy. Friendly even, if he would dare say so. Sam caught himself enamored with her every move, from her boisterous, free laughter to her subtle, shy smiles to the way the gold flecks in her brown eyes captured the filtered sunlight in the small room, making them glint when she looked away in thought. Somewhere amidst their light banter, he had fallen hard for this girl. And his heart would only leap higher in hope when she would accidently touch his arm or brush his knee in conversation. Every touch of her soft hand went straight to his groin, and she knew it, too. He knew that she knew it. She would always look at him afterward, searching for any sign of a rise or strain. And he secretly hated her for the tease of it all. Her lying touches would only serve to leave him hornier and more sexually frustrated than he was before they met up. What was her game exactly? Torment the nerd? Did she, Santana, and Brittany have some sort of bet going to see how long it would take before he creamed in his pants from her seduction? Was there some secret camera hidden somewhere in this room, ready to film the inevitable embarrassing moment?

He had to know. It would hurt too much if he found out after the fact.

"Why do you want me to tutor you?" he spat, feeling the anger rise within him.

Mercedes was mid laugh at her own joke when he blurted out his question. She was a bit taken aback by his tone, but quickly recovered. "Because I need the help. Why? Didn't you want to tutor me, Sammy?" she inquired, blinking rapidly in mock innocence.

"Oh, don't play dumb with me and _don't _call me Sammy, like I'm some little plaything that belongs to you. I know _exactly _what this is about!" fumed Sam. He snapped the book on his lap closed, startling Mercedes, and moved away from the couch, running an angry hand through his hair. Just looking at her felt like a lie, like he was investing all his emotions in an apparition that would never be tangible. He would always reach but never be able to touch her, and it felt like she was taunting him with her body.

She followed him with her eyes, genuinely confused this time. "What exactly _is _this about, Sammy?"

"Oh, come off it! You know I want you and I was falling all over myself trying to impress you. And your sick, twisted cheerleader friends are probably sitting somewhere, laughing their asses off at poor, pathetic lil' Sammy and his impossibly unattainable crush on you, one of the most popular girls in school. Look, I know girls like you don't date guys like me, let alone have any sexual interest in them whatsoever, so let's just cut through the bullshit and face facts!" he spat, seething the more he thought about being played. He turned to her, coming within centimeters of her shocked face in two strides. "What the hell is it you want from me? And don't lie. I know when you're lying."

God, his anger should be frightening, but all she could think about was how amazing angry sex would be with him. Muscles bulging, thighs warm and prodding between hers, opening her up for that first hard thrust….it would feel amazing.

Now, feeling his steaming breath on her face, it only served to fuel the fantasy.

"Honestly?" she said breathily.

"Yeah, be completely honest" he growled, snarling at her pretty face and glossy, trembling lips.

Her lustful smile threw him for a loop. "I just really wanted to fuck you." She confessed, in a hurried breath.

His eyes nearly shot out his sockets. "What?"

She licked her lips, smiling confidently under his intense stare. "No games. No gimmicks. There's no secret camera anywhere filming us. And I can guarantee my girls won't hear about any of this from me. I just really wanted my virginity gone, and you seemed like just the kind of guy I wanted to take it."

He went hard as soon as she said virginity. No fucking way this beauty before him never had her cherry popped. And that was a double negative to her wanting _him_, of all people, to pop it for her. Him, Sam Evans. Uncoordinated, dorky, tighty-whitey, still sleeps with a Star Wars nightlight, Sam Evans. There was no way he deserved such a pleasurable honor.

"You…you're a…you want me to take your virginity?" he croaked. It was all his mind could process at the moment. The words _Mercedes, virginity, and my dick_ kept revolving around his brain like a carousel.

"Yeah, I do." She smiled coyly, lightly trailing the buttons on his collar. Her large brown eyes batted innocently at him. "Do you want to?"

"Do I want to what?" he whispered, being drawn in by the magnetic pull of her lips.

His labored breaths tickled her pout. "Fuck me…" she mouthed in a near silent whipser. His answer was pressing his lips to hers in a hard kiss. She laced her fingers behind his neck and pulled him deeper, tracing the hard line of his jaw with her thumbs. He didn't think or worry about what was appropriate or cool. He just followed his instinct and pushed her gently against the couch, stretching his long arm deftly to close the door. Once he heard the click of the lock, he grew bolder and more eager, parting her lips with his and jamming his tongue down her throat, flicking against the roof of her mouth. His large hands cupped the outer edge of her large breasts, squeezing them gently and tracing a lazy thumb against her perky nipples.

All of her senses felt alight and attuned to his touch, hands moving against his flexed, muscular back and pulling him closer. God, where did he learn to kiss like this? Where did he learn to touch a woman? His caresses felt skilled and sure, like he knew what he was doing. She wouldn't know how an experienced guy felt in contrast to an inexperienced one, but she knew for damn sure Sam's touches were just right for her body. She didn't even try to suppress the moans.

He felt her sound vibrate in his throat and his hands traveled lower, groping her warm thighs. She wasn't scrawny or too lean, but just full enough in his hands. All of her: her breasts, her thighs, the curve of her ass. She felt perfect. His hands snaked under dress to finger the edge of her panties, pressed in the crux of her thighs. He felt her legs part under him, giving him room to explore and touch her where she so desperately needed to be touched. It was only when he felt her small, eager hands press against his ass, and his cock felt the heat of her crotch pressed against the busted fly of his jeans, that he pulled back from their kiss and looked at her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, worried. He wanted to give her a final way out before they went too far.

She studied his face seriously for a moment.

"Wait, no."

His face fell almost instantly. A smart guy like him should have known it was too good to be true. But then, she reached up and removed his glasses, folding them, and resting them on the small table beside them.

"There we go," she said smiling then running a tender hand through his bangs to bring the hair away from his face. "Now I can see you. All of you. Now I'm sure."

The same electric spark of attraction hit them again in that moment, sparking in her touch and in his tender gaze. Clothes weren't off, and intimate parts had yet to be properly touched, but the moment she took off his glasses left Sam feeling as naked and vulnerable as the day he was born. Her kind eyes assured him, sensing his thoughts.

"You're beautiful, Sammy," she whispered, running her soft fingers against his cheek. Mercedes had no idea what compelled her, but she captured his lips in a tender kiss, one laced with something more than lust. Sam responded fervently, feeling a gentle tear escape him from the tenderness of the moment. Everything had changed now. He wasn't sure how exactly, but the urgency to bang her into the soft springs of the mattress had left him. Suddenly, his body could slow down and love her properly.

Suddenly, he had fallen in love with Mercedes Jones.

He didn't have time to dwell on the epiphany, since Mercedes had grabbed his hand and pushed it gently between them, guiding his fingers under her panties to her wetness. The warm, damp feel of her on his fingers had him sighing in relief. She felt every bit as wonderful as he had imagined. He rubbed his fingers up and down experimentally, feeling every ridge and furrow of her vagina skate across his fingers in a slick heat. She moaned softly, loving the calloused feel of his fingertips on her sensitive clit, and guided his hand to move faster, making her wet.

His hand skirted up her labia and stayed to play with her clit, thumbing and caressing the smooth skin and taut bundle of nerves that lay underneath. She writhed gently against his hand, stimulating herself against his pressure. He offered her a slight press of the pad of his thumb, and rubbed her little button in tight fast circles. The clenching of her pussy grew more eager.

"Uh..yeah! Just like that! Your fingers feel so good," she moaned breathily, still gyrating her hips wildly against his fingers. He watched her every move, studied her every heady gasp and throaty moan and committed it to memory. He wanted to remember this moment with her for the rest of his life.

She never once left his eyes. She only looked between his gaze and the rapid movement of his fingers between her thighs, groaning and panting directly at him. She wanted to remember this moment, too. The way his green eyes loomed above her, the parting of his pink lips, the way his blond bangs flapped slightly in the wind with each of his thrusting movements. Though he wasn't inside her, his hips were grinding against his moving hand, pressing him harder against her clit. He could feel a pressure of his own building, but tried to stave off his release to watch her cum on his fingers.

It wouldn't be long now. She was shoving his whole arm up and down inside her panties, briefly lifting her skirt higher so she could get a better view. Seeing his large arm between her legs, bobbing delightfully against her pussy, sent her over the edge. He shoved two fingers quickly in her tightness, catching the flow of cum against the curve of his palm. Her orgasm was silent, full of heavy gasping and panting, and he eased her down from her climax with short flicks of his thumb against her clit. Once she was sated and her breathing slowed, he gently pulled out his fingers from her clenching pussy, looking directly in her eyes as he licked her essence from his palm and each of his fingers.

"You taste amazing." He whispered reverently, bending down for another tender kiss to her lips. His lips barely touched hers in a whisper of a caress, but her body still trembled from the intensity. Her eyes popped open from the kiss to meet his smiling ones, and before she could speak he slowly pulled her panties down her thighs, tickling her skin with the pads of his sliding fingers. He bent down and kissed every inch of her flesh, trailing her falling underwear with the warm peck of his lips and doting attentions of his tongue. She parted her thighs to a wider V, watching his blonde head bob and lick her inner thighs. He smoothed his lips down her calves, murmuring unintelligible whispers of adoration and devotion against her skin as she wiggled beneath him. Her breaths grew labored when he left her panties haphazardly around her ankles, kissing his way back up her thighs and looking up at her when he reached her juncture. His white smile against her dark flesh was tantalizing.

"Am I allowed to taste you?" he asked, pressing a gentle kiss to her nether lips. She whimpered and writhed, biting her lip in pleasure. Looking down at him, she couldn't resist running her hands through his hair again. His strands felt so soft and pliable in her fingers.

Without a word, she nodded and pushed his head toward pussy, moaning loudly when his tongue darted out and lapped her slick center eagerly. She grabbed his hair and felt the firm bob of his head under her hands, working her body like a pro. Looking down, she could see her firm clit nestled softly between his teeth, being nibbled and sucked gently in his mouth. The slurping sounds of his hungry mouth and the rough pad of his taste buds against her labia made her cum again, hard and relentless. Feeling her release, he spread her lips quickly, lapping away at the remnants of her cum, pumping freely from her clenching walls. He wanted inside her so badly, but knew well enough to know that a girl needed to be well lubricated for her first time. He had watched enough sex-ed videos and amateur porn in his spare time to know better than to just thrust inside her.

"Ohhh, shit Sammy…."

"God, I love the way you cum for me." He confessed, and continued to suck her clit until she was spent.

She massaged his scalp as he ate her, smiling in satisfied gratitude. He was amazing. He treated her like the finest china, gently and with loving care. She loved the way he loved her body.

Her breath halted instantly in her throat.

_Wait, Fuck! Who said anything about love?_

Mercedes was getting too attached, too caught up in the moment. She needed to flip the script, quickly. Roughly tugging on his hair, she pulled his head up to a rough and painful kiss, bruising both their lips from the harsh impact.

He frowned against her lips, a little off put by the turn of events, but then she yanked his dick out of his boxers and jerked his erection in her soft hands and he forgot why he was upset in the first place. She quickly flipped them over, hand still jerking his cock as they turned. She pulled her swollen lips from his and looked down at his stunned face, tinged pink and hot from the exertion.

Without looking down, she ripped the condom wrapper in her teeth and slid it down his shaft, delighting in the "O" of his lips when she touched him. Her hair spilled over her shoulder and tickled his shoulder as she leaned closer, whispering in his ear. "Alright, nerd boy. My turn."

And she made her way quickly down his body, licking his latex-sheathed slit experimentally before shoving all of him in her mouth.

"Ahhhh, god speed, captain!"

He felt her smile around his shaft, lips curved in amusement. Her chuckle rumbled in her throat, vibrating around his sensitive head. His hips thrust gently in her mouth, urging her to go faster. And she twisted her hands around his cock, pumping and sucking him with vigor. The friction made him a bit sore, but her tight lips and suctioned cheeks were doing him so well he welcomed the pain. He felt his balls tighten underneath his shaft as his orgasm approached. She must have sensed it as well, possibly when he grabbed her head and pushed her down further, because she reached up and massaged his scrotum, fondling his sac in her hands as she worked her lips around him. She kissed him, base to tip, along his shaft before swirling her tongue around his head.

"Do you like this, Sammy? You like me sucking you in my mouth? I'm gonna make you cum so hard, honey. This will be the best study session you've ever had." She promised, swiping her thumb along the underside of his cock.

His words world have been enough to get him over the edge, but something about the moment left him unsettled. Something had changed in her in those brief moments before their kiss. Something had changed. She felt detached and cold, even while he was sheathed in her warm mouth. And he was too greedy to only get half of her now. He had seen something, felt something deeper with her. He knew it.

Sam grabbed her wrist stopping her motions. "Stop, Mercedes" he panted, pleading. "Not like this. Please not like this."

She looked from his hand to his eyes, confused. "Don't you like it? I thought this is what every guy wanted? Most would jump at the chance for a blow job from a cheerleader. Santana told…"

"Ah! That's the problem. That RIGHT there!" he exclaimed. "You're going at it like you're them. Like Santana and Brittany and all of the other shallow girls who just give themselves up for a quick roll in the hay." He sat up and pulled her on his lap, wrapping her legs around him. "But, you're not like that!"

"I'm—I'm not?" she replied, surprised. Where did he come off calling her out like this? She said and did everything right, hadn't she? This wasn't supposed to be complicated.

"No, you're not, Mercedes." All formalities had been tossed to the wayside. They weren't the diva and dork in this moment. It was just Sam and Mercedes, a man who loved and a woman who needed to be loved. "You're not like them because you feel. You invest your emotions in whatever you do, I can see it in your eyes." He craned his neck to softly kiss her cheek. "You can't do quick fucks, darlin'. Stop pretending to be something you're not."

She visibly recoiled at his stinging insult. "How dare you talk to me like that? Like you know me? What, just because I invited you back here and you licked a little slit and got me off you think you know me? You know, if you can't do this just say so. I can most certainly find someone else willing and able to do the job who doesn't feel the need to psychoanalyze me."

She moved to hop off his lap, but he held down her thighs firmly, rooting her in the spot. "Let me the fuck go, Sam!"

"No." His face and tone were even, challenging her with his eyes.

"Sam, let me go!" She tried to push off his arms, but his grip was strong. She kicked her legs and pushed against his chest, trying to escape his arms and the honesty of his eyes, but she couldn't escape it.

"No, Mercedes. Not until you tell me the real reason why you chose me. Look at me and tell the truth, 'cause I know when you're lying." said Sam, coolly.

She shook her head and turned her face away, trying to hide her tears. "No…I can't do that, Sam" she replied, sadness laced in the angry bite of her voice. "Let me go." She looked to him, fixing his concerned stare with a sassy one of her own, but something behind her eyes begged him to never relinquish his hold, ever. He didn't know what it was about her, but he swore he could hear her soul audibly calling out to him, begging him to break through her defenses and reach her. He just needed to find the right words to say.

"I'm never letting you go, Mercedes. Not ever. Because somewhere in this complicated tangle of emotion between us, I think I fell for you. I know it's quick and that I don't deserve someone like you, but I can't help what I feel. And I think you feel it too." He watched her chin quiver as the silent tears streamed down her face. He cupped her cheeks and turned her face gently to him. "Mercedes? Please? If this is only going to be a one-time thing, could we at least be honest in this moment? Have something real, just for today? Afterward, we can go back to the people we are outside this room. I'll be the dork and you'll be the diva cheerleader and we'll never speak again. Just….please, give me all of you right now."

The last of her defensive walls had crumbled at his words, and she cried silent tears against his hands, flowing down his forearm. Why she cried, she didn't know, but she felt a freedom with Sam that she hadn't felt in a long time. For too long, she had hidden herself in different personas, trying to figure out who she is and where she belongs. And here comes Sam, with his bifocals thick as bar soap and a cheesy grin, seeing right through all of her carefully orchestrated disguises.

His gaze was so honest, resting on her face as he waited for her reply. Slowly, tentatively, she moved in, deciding to trust him with her body and, maybe for a day, her heart. Her tears had yet to slow when her lips finally pressed his, giving him the most honest, soul bearing kiss she could muster. He stroked her face encouragingly, flicking the tip of his tongue against her bottom lip to open her fully. She granted him access, and Sam slowly explored the caverns of her mouth, loving her without words.

Quietly, she shifted up on his lap, took his hardness in her soft grip, and gently guided him to rest against her opening. She broke the kiss with a gentle tug, brown eyes shimmering in warmth. She gave a watery chuckle at his innocent half smile and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

"You want honesty, right?" he nodded slowly, anticipating her answer. She sighed heavily and continued, feeling brave enough to be herself for the first time in a long time. "The truth is….I think I feel something for you too. I don't know if it's love yet, but…I can't ignore it. And it scares me that you know me so well, and we only really met yesterday. It scares me even more when I realized how calm I was about all of this. How at peace I felt with you. I…I trust you, Sammy, with everything." She slowly sank her hips on his lap, feeling the increasing pressure of his erection slowly split her open. She teared up a bit from the pain, but didn't stop until he was fully inside her, the back of her thighs meeting the top of his. He sighed and pulled her body closer, feeling a pair of his own tears leave his eyes at the beauty of the moment. He kissed her ear, her temple, and her cheeks, anywhere his lips could reach, whispering a slew of "thank yous and "I love yous against her flesh.

"I trust you with everything." He whispered hurriedly, feeling tight squeeze of her tight pussy around her cock as she began to move. Her hips were slow to thrust at first, getting used to the feel of him, and he let her set the pace of their love making without any interruption. The tinge of blood on the condom frightened him a bit, unconsciously making him grab her hips to halt her. She followed his gaze and shook her head, reassuring him.

"It's okay, I'm fine. I want this," And she rested her hands over his, moving her pelvis beneath their joined fingers.

Pleasure slowly overtook pain, and the newness of his penetration became familiar as her bouncing grew more hurried. Soon, she slapped against him with a fevered pace, meeting his gentle thrusts once he grew confident enough to move. The air was thick with their panting, joined foreheads and locked stares gyrating in rapid tandem as they grew closer to climax. She felt the slow build of heat in her groin, the building pressure of pleasure from their efforts. Mercedes clawed her grip into his strong shoulders, finding stability in his muscle when her thighs started to shake around him. Her eyes rolled back gently in her head as the small waves of orgasm overtook her, building in intensity like thunderous waves during a summer storm. He rested his head in her neck, nuzzling the quickened pulse of her carotid artery under his nose, breathing in the scent of her as he reached his own climax. He shuddered from his release, hugging her clothed body to his when he decided to speak.

"I love you, Mercedes," he declared with certainty, just as the greatest waves of climax crashed against the shores of her writhing body.

Afterward there was pulsing silence: the race of her heartbeat, the huffs of his breath, the throbbing of his limp cockhead, the heat of her swollen labia lips. Everything was pressure, pleasure and quiet around them, humbled in the shine of their afterglow.

When they breaths became measured and even, their eyes opened at the same time, brown and green glowing in joy.

"Thank you," she said against his lips, capturing them in a soft peck. One peck turned to two, then twenty as they poured their hearts into their kisses.

She moved off of his lap slowly, slightly wincing from the soreness of her pelvis and thighs. She pulled up her underwear and he zipped up quickly, hopping up from his seat and hugging her one last time before they separated.

Both eyes traveled to the closed door in front of them. And both hearts dropped at the reality that lay behind it.

"So, back to the land of the living, huh?" he mused, reaching down to grab his glasses from the table and put them on.

"Yeah, I guess so," she replied, awkwardly rubbing her arms to shake the tension of the moment. She turned in his embrace and looked at him, donning his dorky glasses that would always tilt slightly to the left when he wore them. He looked absolutely perfect.

"So, same time next Tuesday?" she asked shyly, biting her lip. His sudden laugh made her look away, blushing in embarrassment.

His laugh slowed to an affectionate smile, adoring the heat of her cheeks under his palm when she turned shy.

"Why, do you think you'll need more tutoring? Won't your cheerleading buddies start to get suspicious when our sessions get longer and longer each week?" he coyly asked, stroking her soft cheek.

She leaned into his touch, allowing herself to enjoy it for just a minute. "I think I'll always need a tutoring session, Sammy. And I don't care what they think." Her smile was honest and open to him. "It will be our little secret."

"I wish it didn't have to be." He confessed, saddened by the goodbye feel of their conversation.

"It won't be forever. Things just…have to happen in their own time." She replied softly, hoping he heard the subtle promise. She couldn't just give up everything for him, not yet. She wasn't sure she was brave enough to go against the grain. But maybe, with more study sessions, Sam could teach her how to slowly stop denying herself. Maybe, he could be the one to show her how to open her heart and find freedom in being herself. Just maybe.

She kissed him again and walked away, opening the study room door and making her way out of the library. He felt the pang in his heart at her retreating form, knowing that she wasn't ready to admit to all that they shared. He had almost feared that he would lose her forever.

But then, she looked back. And she smiled at him. And he knew.

Because it didn't take a genius to see that under all that mess of emotion, Mercedes had loved him just as fiercely as he loved her. She didn't say the words, but he had certainly felt it. And something in his gut told him that this wasn't the end. Somewhere along the line, they would be forever.

Until then, he would prepare their room and gather his supplies, ever ready for their secret Tuesday rendezvous meetings in the library whenever she was ready for another session.


End file.
